


Measure of a Letter

by morpheusly



Category: Original Work, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morpheusly/pseuds/morpheusly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More of a writing exercise in preparation of Hannibal Big Bang (writing in Skyfall fandom, yes, I know) and a paltry offering to entertain <b><span class="u">skylights</span></b> because. Yeah.</p>
<p>Standard disclaimers apply, and the concept of Abecedarium and associated concepts/ideas belong to me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Measure of a Letter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skylights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylights/gifts).



> Erm...should I even continue this...

 

James grew up knowing he was worthless, that he was nothing more than chattel in the eyes of those far more worthy. What little value he had were in the muscles he had built through sheer, hard labour and his penis, which was pleasantly thick and of flattering length, compared to others of his kind. His face, as an Abecedarium had put it, was  _an abomination only the gods would find pleasure in,_ right before the Alphabet (it was an M, gods he hated those who held the M title) had James lie down on his back and offer his pleasing penis for the privileged noble to impale on.

But James also grew up believing that if he really was that expendable, that he had nothing to give to this cursed world that divided her people into the Abecedariums and the Unlettered, then he would die by  _making_ the world a little better with his absence.

He would assassinate an Abecedarium. He would plunge his hand through the chest of an Alphabet and he would rip the beating heart out and glory in the blood of those who made him worthless. And he would kill the highest of all, because a mere Alphabet would mean little; he would kill their Excelsi and rejoice in the last few moments of his life that he had reduced the pampered stock by one.

James, the Unlettered, vowed to kill Q.

 

* * *

 

Q was immeasurably bored. And for someone like Q to be immeasurably bored was to walk into a hungry lion's cage and hope for the best. Foolish at most, downright suicidal at best (not for Q, but for his poor consorts and simpering sycophants). He had thought being Excelsi would add excitement to his life and it did. If he considered eating rich foods prepared by slaves, to be carried on the shoulders of muscled men and women from room to room because an Excelsi was too pure to stain his feet with earthly energies and to have poetry read to him at every mealtime to be exciting.

Q was bored. And like all the Qs before him, a bored Q was a  _dangerous_ Q.

It made him ponder and think and speculate and see more than he usually did - and he always did see more than anyone. He saw the blood and sacrifice his privileged world was built on, he saw the abuse meted out by his kind and the joy they took in the suffering of others. He saw how the Letter Olympiad was merely an excuse for the Abecedarium to kill and feast (and he did nothing. Because why should he?).

Q saw, and thought, and pondered and now with boredom added to the equation, Q was more than willing to _make_ his life exciting.

Which was why, after much careful meaneuvering, when the slave had him pinned to his bed during the darkest night of the year, when Lettered and Unlettered alike were cowering in their rooms in fear of the curse of the Night of Unmaking, all he asked was, "What method were you planning on employing to end my life?"

He hoped it was something suitably thrilling. It would be a shame to die a boring death.

 

* * *

 

...TBC?


End file.
